The Curse of Ravenclaw Tower
by distinctlydotty
Summary: Strange things are afoot in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry... Follow Ron Weasley as he bravely seeks out the truth behind the dreaded Curse of Ravenclaw Tower. Mysteryparodycomedy featuring most of the main characters
1. Chapter 1

Strange things were afoot in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which is to say, stranger things than usual, were afoot. The aforesaid strange things were primarily occurring in the Ravenclaw Tower, to Ravenclaw students regardless of sex; status; year; and, believe it or not, position in the Ravenclaw Debating Society. Thus, a dreadfully 'witty' student of one of the other houses named the occurrences 'The Curse of Ravenclaw Tower' (it is, of course, apparent that the student concerned did not belong to Ravenclaw house, as Ravenclaws are famed for their wit, and this poor soul clearly isn't).

In any case, the Ravenclaws themselves frowned upon the name 'The Curse of Ravenclaw Tower' as it was fundamentally flawed and incorrect, some of the strange occurrences had, in fact, occurred in corridors around the school (and also one memorable incident involving Eddie Carmichael, Terry Boot and a cucumber, in the third floor boys toilet).

Our story begins with the 'witty' student that came up with this somewhat grandiose title. He was seated in the Great Hall, shovelling his lunch into his mouth, as was his want of a lunch hour. "I'm telling you Hermione, it's a brilliant name! It's real witty, too!" he managed to articulate between gulps. He looked over at his other best friend. "Ain't that right, Harry?"

Harry did not answer. Harry was staring fixedly at his lunch trying, unsuccessfully, to block out the conversation. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't block out the latest of Ron and Hermione's 'friendly discussions' out of his mind. It was slowly and surreptitiously, permeating his weary mind like a bad smell furtively pervading an enclosed space. To be honest, Harry wasn't sure how much more his poor misunderstood; bruised; battered; and, generally, tortured soul could take.

"Wit is only educated insolence, Ron!" spat Hermione, her voice brimming with the kind of acidic frustration that only a vicious bout of PMT could so graciously bestow.

Harry's spirited attempt at keeping out of the conversation, and harms way, was on the brink of failure, and he knew it. Desperate times called for desperate measures, so deep in Harry's troubled mind there sparked an idea. Pity it wasn't a good idea but, as previously mentioned, he was desperate. He therefore stiffened his limp and weedy resolve, and with a sudden, manic, bout of energy, stuffed as much mashed potato into his mouth as was humanly possible. Harry then looked up at Ron, pointed to his mouth and made actions as to convey the message that he couldn't talk right now. Hermione rolled her eyes whilst Ron looked away, slightly disappointed and somewhat disturbed, but Harry silently and vigorously congratulated himself for managing to keep out of the argument. Unfortunately for Harry, since his idea wasn't very good, one of the many flaws in his plan befell him - he had put too much in his mouth and his gag reflex kicked in. He began to choke and he managed to spray the person sitting opposite him, Ginny Weasley, with mashed potatoes. Beware the woes mashed potatoes can bestow.

Hermione, who was sitting next to Ginny, leaned out of the way and said icily, "There you go Ron! Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, would rather choke to death on mashed potatoes than admit that 'The Curse of Ravenclaw Tower' was witty! Honestly Ron! Grow up will you! Those Ravenclaws could have been hurt! These are attacks! Attacks that are occurring to our fellow students! It's not something to joke about or to make remarks about!"

"Oh, come on Hermione!" whined Ron, as he thumped Harry on the back. "I mean, who cares? All them Ravenclaws think that they're better and smarter than everyone else! They wouldn't have been injured; they're not even being attacked! Someone's just playing pranks on them, that's all!" He took in the sceptical look on Hermione's face as she helped to pick the worst of the potato out of Ginny's hair, and added quickly, "It's harmless fun, I mean, how many Ravenclaws do we _really_ know anyway?"

At this Ginny, who was wiping mashed potatoes of her face, pointed towards a girl seated at the Ravenclaw table and snapped, "Well, that one happens to be one of my best friends! She helped save both our lives back at the Ministry, you insensitive git!" She got up, and after giving her brother the venomous look that she reserved solely for him when he was being her Big Brother (or prat), she hurried out of the Great Hall, destined for a shower and a fresh set of robes.

As he continued to thump the still choking Harry on the back, Ron looked over at the Ravenclaw table, and at the girl who sat there. She had long straggly dirty blonde hair, which was currently in low pigtails trailing down her front, and huge silvery eyes. Currently, those eyes were staring into space and a small smile played across her features. Turning his attention back to his plate, then at a gagging Harry, he sighed.

"Ron Weasley! Don't you even begin to feel sorry for yourself! You deserved that! You are utterly thoughtless! You and Ginny might not have been here today if it hadn't been for Luna! Have you ever thanked her?" Hermione stormed. She paused for breath and continued lecturing an open-mouthed Ron. "I will admit that she's unusual but that's no reason for you to ignore her and not to like her." She was subjecting Ron to such a ferocious glare, that he thought, perhaps, she'd been taking glaring lessons from his mother.

"Alright, alright, don't nag. I don't not like her or anything, she's just, well, a bit different to what I'm used too, ok?" replied Ron defensively, whilst handing Harry a glass of water.

"Oh, for heavens sake! Ron, take Harry up to the common room, will you? His coughing and spluttering are putting me off my dinner!" Hermione snapped back.

It was clear to Ron that this conversation was over, so sighing resignedly, Ron put Harry's arm around his shoulder and helped him out of the Great Hall. Harry's eyes were streaming and he was still coughing, and after ascending the fifth flight of stairs Harry was getting heavy. "Harry, mate, the potato can't have affected your legs, so use them!" These words were greeted by a hacking cough. "Come on, mate. I've lost count of the times you've defeated V-V-Voldemort, you're not gonna let a bit of mashed potato finish you off, eh?" Yet again, these words were greeted with a hacking cough.

As they entered Gryffindor Tower, they were greeted excitedly by the Creevy brothers. "Put that bloody camera away Colin," snapped Ron. "Move it, midget's!" he shouted at a gaggle of first years that were blocking the door to the boys' dormitories.

He heaved Harry up to their dormitory, trying not to mutter darkly about where he'd like to shove Colin's camera. He kicked open the dormitory door and dragged Harry across the floor and dumped Harry on his bed. "You gonna be alright?" he asked Harry gruffly.

Harry coughed again (for effect) and nodded. "Yeah, thanks mate. Don't know what I'd have done without you." Harry had a mad glint glistening in his eyes and he grinned wickedly. "Ronnikins – you're my hero!" Harry hacked and coughed again as a pillow, sent his way by Ron, hit him square in the face and knocked him off his bed.

"Oh, shut up! I should've left you lying in the corridors, perhaps a little kick in from the Slytherins would do you some good!" Ears blazing, Ron slammed the dormitory door behind him and made his way out of the Tower.

"Bloodly prefect duties," he grumbled as he walked down the Fat Lady's corridor.

Ever since the start of term, Ron thought that Harry had been acting really strangely. One minute he was practically bouncing, or (even worse) positively capering around Hogwarts (being down right cheeky to all and sundry) and the next he was moody, sullen, restless, and brooding. Ron had caught many of the female students gazing wistfully at the brooding Harry. It had sickened him. Thoroughly.

After a while, some soul-searching, and taking some points off a Slytherin second-year, Ron began to feel a bit better. He thought of what Hermione had said about Luna. He knew that she was right, of course, as Luna had probably saved both his and Ginny's lives. _Everyone has welcomed Luna_, he thought, _even Hermione after a few false starts, so why do I have a problem with her?_

Shaking his head, in a vain attempt to clear his thoughts, he rounded another corner and set off down a dark corridor. He was halfway along it before he saw a small creature dressed in ragged clothes, attempting to conceal itself behind a statue of Gregory the Smarmy.

Without quite knowing why, Ron quickly side-stepped into the shadows and watched the creature. It was chortling to itself and wringing its hands together in what can only be described as a maniacally evil way (whilst managing to border on the, always popular, diabolically evil way). Ron jumped as a door nearby banged shut.

The creature whipped round, looking for the source of the noise and Ron saw its face for the first time. It had a small, flat face with pinhole nostrils and it appeared to be rather hairy. It was also wearing what looked, to Ron, like a white turban.

Footsteps echoed from the other end of the corridor. Ron watched as Orla Quirke, a fourth year Ravenclaw, made her way towards him, unaware of Ron's and the creatures presence.

At the sight of Orla, the little creature froze. As she approached, it sniffed the air eagerly and beared its teeth. It clicked its tiny fingers and a luminous green substance appeared behind Orla. It watched hungrily as Orla drew closer to it, totally unaware of the mass of ectoplasm that was floating behind her.

The ectoplasm remained stationery, floating in the middle of the corridor, churning madly, and appearing to gather in mass. Ron reached for his wand as he stepped out of the shadows.

Orla looked surprised as she watched him emerge from the shadows. Her mouth began to form a welcome until she saw him raise his wand, pointing it at her. She stopped dead and a look of horror passed over her features.

"Duck!" Ron yelled, as he watched the ectoplasm suddenly shoot towards her.

Orla squealed as she dropped to the ground.

"_Skurge_!" bellowed Ron, aiming his spell at the ectoplasm. His spell hit it, dead centre, and Orla squealed a bit more, as small blobs of the green substance landed all around her.

Ron looked around for the little creature that had caused this but it was too late, it was gone. Orla shakily got to her feet, and looked at Ron. "The Curse," she quavered. "It was the Curse! Oh! Ron you saved me!"

Ron hurried over to her as she swayed madly. He took hold of her arm. "Orla! Are you ok?" he asked urgently.

He caught her as she passed out. Thinking of Harry and his Ronnikins taunt, Ron looked down at the girl in his arms and said bitterly, "Oh, well that's just bloody brilliant, isn't it?"

Having dropped Orla off at the Hospital Wing with a hurried explanation to Madam Pomfrey, Ron set off in search of Hermione. It was obvious now, even to him, that Hermione was right, again. The Curse of Ravenclaw Tower actually was a series of attacks on his fellow students.

He had an idea of what was causing these attacks. _Obviously_, he thought, _the little bugger with the turban was some kind of magical creature_. Ron also knew that if there was one person in this school who had memorised the whole of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_, it'd be Hermione Granger, who had recently been voted Hogwarts' Resident Expert on Absolutely Everything.

Hermione, being possibly the only person in the castle who had also memorised _Hogwarts: A_ _History_, had once explained that no magical creature could enter the castle unless it was brought in by a student or a teacher. Ron was glad that he couldn't remember why they had been talking magical creatures living in the castle – something's just don't bear thinking about. In his opinion, the person responsible for setting this creature loose in the castle was probably some back-stabbing, dirty, jealous, and cowardly Slytherin. Or Hagrid did it by mistake. Ron hoped that it was the former.

Ron yanked aside a tapestry, intent on taking a short cut to Gryffindor Tower, when he saw Loony Lovegood walking towards him. There was nowhere to run and certainly nowhere to hide down this narrow corridor. Cursing his misfortune, and in no mood to try and understand the inner musings of Loony, he hitched his face into a false bright smile and said in an I'm-to-busy-to-stop-and-chat-especially-with-you kind of way, "Hi Luna. How's it going?" He hoped that if this did actually spawn a conversation, that it was going to be a very quick one - he needed to find Hermione and quickly. However, as she approached, he saw that her bottom lip was bleeding and her eyes looked more dazed than dreamy. Frowning, he stopped and asked, "Hey… What happened to you?"

Luna stopped walking and blinked. She then turned to face him and blinked again. Ron almost gasped - Luna had just blinked twice in a few seconds, which was not normal for the girl who was, most definitely, not normal. She tilted her head to the side, opened her mouth once or twice, and then blinked again. Ron felt quite faint. Then she said in slightly strangled tones, "I tripped on the stairs. I think someone jinxed me. I'm going up to the hospital wing to get my lip fixed."

"Somebody jinxed you!" Ron bristled at this, surprising himself. Suddenly, the knowledge and certainly was there in a flash of electrical impulses over much neglected synapses - Ron felt ashamed at his behaviour towards Luna. He realised at that moment, he was looking at one of Ginny's best friends, and she had been purposefully injured. He felt an unhealthy urge to right his wrongs and smite the unworthy. His face set with grim determination, he asked, "Did you see who did it?"

"No," she replied vaguely, "but they snatched my necklace off as I fell. I don't think it's the Curse though. I've been jinxed before. Some people think it's quite amusing, actually."

Sure enough, Ron noticed that her butterbeer cork necklace was missing. "That's terrible, Luna! I bet it was a Slytherin, it sounds just like them to do a thing like that!" Ron fumed. _Today was going to be a bad day to be in Slytherin_, he resolved silently.

"Well, I'd better be going Ron," she said, gingerly touching her bleeding lip with her finger.

Ron, who was busy torturing a hundred Slytherins in his head, started back to reality. "Oh, right, yeah. See you later Luna. Take care." She waved in reply, as she set off along the corridor.

__

The time had come, Ron decided, _to wage war on the Slytherins_. And wage war he did. Forgetting completely about the little creature, he stalked through the castle on the prowl for Slytherins. When he found them, he took points for the following; befouling the castle; littering; magic in the corridors; restricting the flow of students in the corridors; pushing fellow students; jumping queues; loitering; loitering with intent; malicious loitering; malicious loitering with intent; breaching the peace; and the capital crime of giving a prefect a funny look.

By the dinnertime, Slytherin house was down by 120 points. Feeling exhausted but strangely satisfied, Ron slumped down on the Gryffindor bench in the Great Hall, beside Hermione. He grabbed a plate and filled it with two dollops of everything from every dish he could reach. Once again, he appreciated his good fortune at getting the long, gibbon-like arms from his fathers' side of the family. He started to tuck into his dinner.

Hermione couldn't help looking slightly offended by the mixed mountain of foodstuffs on his plate. With the barest of head shakes at his abominable eating habits she thought, _I may as well buy him a trough for Christmas._

After giving Ron a few minutes of uninterrupted guzzling, she turned to him and gave him an appraising look. "Where have you been all afternoon?" she enquired politely.

Ron, sensing danger, desperately sought a way to change the subject (he was considering using his change-the-subject trump card, which had never yet failed him, which was asking after Harry). His unease stemmed from he fact that Hermione, against the expectations of all, had become quite fond of Luna and seeing that Hermione had mellowed out since lunch, Ron did not want to provoke her or upset her in any way. A flash a divine, conversation-changing inspiration failed to hit him. Therefore he asked, "Where's Harry?"

Hermione sighed sadly and shook her head. "He's brooding again. Weekends are hard for him, Ron. During the week he has a structured timetable and homework to do so he doesn't have the time to brood and mope about. Roll on the Quidditch season, at least he'll have that to distract him."

"You should keep on lecturing him about doing at least some of his homework on Saturdays. That way, he won't have enough time to brood like he does," advised Ron.

Hermione visibly bristled. "Why don't you do it for a change! I'm sick of nagging the pair of you! Honestly! It's not as if you're children that need everything done for you!" snapped Hermione.

Ron put his hands out in a placatory gesture, desperately trying to tame the savage beast. "I didn't mean it like that Hermione. It's just that he listens to you in that way. The last time I said anything like that…" he drifted off, reliving that moment in his head.

"What happened?" asked Hermione, somewhat incredulously and utterly gobsmacked that Ron had shown the initiative.

"Well, when he was brooding a couple of weeks ago, I told him that 'things weren't that bad and to buck up a bit'" he sighed, resigned at the memory.

"What did he do?" enquired Hermione.

"He told me to buck off and die…well, it rhymed with buck anyway."

Ginny ran up to them and interrupted Hermione's reply. "You will never guess what's happened!" she gushed excitedly.

"No, we probably won't," said Hermione dryly, marvelling at Ron's stubborn inability to relate compassionately to any other human beings feelings, "but do please continue."

"Peeves, right, played a trick on the Bloody Baron and the Baron's furious! He's demanding Peeves' head or his expulsion from Hogwarts!" Ginny watched Ron and Hermione's stunned expressions for a moment before continuing. "Peeves is bouncing around Dumbledore's office begging for protection. He's screaming that he's innocent!"

"Bloody hell!" said Ron, deeply impressed at Peeves' nerve. "I never thought Peeves was innocent of anything! How did you find all this out anyway?"

"I was in the corridor by Dumbledore's office when Peeves shot past me screaming 'Save me! Save me! The Baron's coming! Professor Dumbledore! Save me!' I've never thought of Peeves being a damsel in distress…." Ginny snickered. "He doesn't seem the type."

Hermione was frowning. "That just doesn't make any sense. Peeves would never prank the Baron. He's the only one that Peeves is really afraid of. I really don't think Peeves would be so stupid. It's really strange – so out of character." She paused, studying her plum and apple pudding.

"You don't think this has got anything to do with the Curse, do you?" asked Ron.

"No…no…that doesn't make sense either," Hermione said slowly. "Up until now, the Curse has only affected the Ravenclaws. Why would it go for Peeves?"

Ginny, who was still slightly over-excited by her news about Peeves, noticed the flummoxed look on Ron's face. Personality-wise, Ginny was more like Fred and George than the rest of her brothers and, like the twins, her favourite game was Quidditch. However, the twins and Ginny would all agree that taking the piss out of Ron came a close second. Which is why she said, "Maybe it's a conspiracy! To get rid of Peeves! Maybe the Ravenclaws are actually responsible for the Curse. Maybe they're faking the whole thing! Maybe it's all just a plot to get rid of Peeves!" said Ginny, eyes sparkling mischievously.

Hermione smiled at Ginny, recognising the sarcasm in her voice, but Ron, with his brow furrowed said, "You know Ginny might have a point. Dad told us all about muggle conspiracies. Maybe it's not the Ravenclaws… Maybe it's the Ministry! Maybe they're trying to cover something up and they have to get rid of Peeves!"

"Ron, that is the most far-fetched thing I've ever heard – and I'm including all those things that Luna talks about! Honestly! A government conspiracy! Do you really think that that is at all likely? Do you honestly think that they are capable of covering anything up? Given the Ministry's, or come to think of it, any other government's, track record in practically every other field, do you really think it's likely that they would be able to cover anything up?!" Hermione fumed. "Every single day I thank Merlin for the stupidity of muggles. If it wasn't for that then the Wizarding world would have been laid bare and exploited years ago! I mean it's not the ordinary witch or wizards fault, oh no, it's the management, the majority of the senior wizarding management, is complete ineffective. It's the exact same with muggles."

"Ron, you can be so gullible sometimes!" laughed Ginny.

"Alright, alright. It was just a thought," said Ron heavily, feeling decidedly hen-pecked.

He looked over at the Ravenclaw and saw Luna. Her lip had been fixed and she was acting as though nothing had happened that afternoon. He looked back at Ginny and Hermione who were now talking to Seamus and Dean. Ron narrowed his eyes at Dean (who was his baby sister's boyfriend), who after several moments noticed Ron's gaze and hurriedly excused himself from the table. Seamus followed soon after.

After contemplating the days events whilst playing with his mashed potatoes, Ron was startled to find both Ginny and Hermione watching him expectantly. "What?" he asked.

Hermione looked a bit concerned. "I asked you if anything was wrong. You're not your usual self. Usually you just constantly stuff your face and grunt. Why are you playing with your potatoes?"

Ron groaned inwardly, he was going to have to tell them about what happened to Luna. He dreaded the girls' reactions to this news but he knew it might relate to the Curse. At least, Ron knew that he could use this opportunity to talk to Hermione about the little turban-wearing creature, something that he had completely forgotten about. Looking back to the Ravenclaw table he saw that Luna had gone. _Well, it was now or never_, he supposed. He took a deep breath and recounted everything that had happened since lunch.

The girls' reactions were pretty much as he expected, and as they quietly raged and sent dark looks across the hall to the Slytherins, Ron tried to excuse himself.

"Ron, wait! What did that creature look like?" Hermione enquired.

"Small, hairy, flat-faced with brown clothes," he recalled, with only a hint of pained concentration flitting across his features.

"Hmm…sounds like it could be some sort of brownie or hobgobin," Hermione said, wishing that _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _had given her more information on the different brownie or hobgoblin species.

"Would you recognise it if you saw it again?" asked Ginny. "I'm doing an essay on Scottish faeries so I borrowed_ Callum Campbell's Compendium of Caledonian Creatures_ from the library. It has loads of information on brownies and hobgoblins and it has a picture section! It's in my dormitory."

"Right. I'll go check on Harry and then we'll meet in the common room in ten minutes," said Ron, leaving the table and the girls alone.

"Well, that IS a surprise!" declared Ginny.

"I know!" exclaimed Hermione. "I always thought Ron had the emotional capacity of a hard boiled egg! He's proved me wrong though! He actually talked to Luna. You know I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship. A strange friendship, but friendship nonetheless."

Ginny raised an eyebrow suggestively. "Just friendship?" she asked innocently.

Hermione stiffened, and Ginny burst into peals of laughter at the look on her face. "I was only joking, Hermione!" she gasped.

Hermione rewarded her with a small smile that looked more like a grimace. Ginny looked suddenly thoughtful. "Could it be Hermione? Could little Ronnikins, finally, be growing up? Could he be maturing into a man?"

Hermione made a rather rude noise. "Ron? Maturing? Not bloody likely!" Seeing that Ginny looked rather sceptical, Hermione sighed with a long-suffering air and said, "Ginny, when a form asks for his sex, he still writes 'Yes please!'"


	2. Chapter 2

The girls returned to Gryffindor Tower five minutes later and Ginny went straight up to her dormitory to fetch the book. Hermione looked around and found a glum-looking Ron and a distant-looking Harry both sitting forlornly by the fire. Hermione raised her eyebrows questioningly at Ron who shrugged and looked away. Hermione went over to them and sat down in a chair beside Ron.

After a moment of silence Hermione demanded, "Well?"

"Well, what?" retorted Ron, a bit more forcefully than he had meant.

"Well," spat Hermione, gesturing towards Harry, "now what's wrong with the malingering git?"

Ron shuffled in his chair, fidgeting with his robes. Finally he said, "I came up to check on him and… He was trying to make a noose out of his uncle's yellow socks, AGAIN. Hermione, that's the fifth time this week. What's wrong with him? He's… He's… Well, he's not Harry anymore!"

"You're quite right, Ron," Hermione declared. "He's not Harry anymore. He's a bloody idiot."

"Look at him, Hermione. He's really ill. I don't think that he's all there, you know? I don't think he's there, if you catch my meaning." To demonstrate his point, Ron waved his hand in front of Harry's face. This had no effect. Harry hadn't even blinked. "He might as well have a vacant sign hung around his neck - nobody's home."

"He's not the only one around here whose brain has long since departed, Ron," said Hermione pointedly.

Ron, who had missed the point magnificently, replied, "Well, yeah, but what's Seamus got to do with it?"

Hermione did not answer this vocally but she did glare. Not for the first time in his life, Ron felt as though he was in a tunnel and the light at the end of it, instead of being salvation, was the Hogwarts Express careening towards him.

__

Time, thought Ron franticly, _for a masterful change of subject!_

Ron looked at Harry, who was staring into the flames utterly oblivious to the buzz of students in the common room, uncomfortably aware that he couldn't use Harry as a subject change this time. Then Ron remembered why they were there in the first place and seized upon the subject with relief, "So, do you think it'll be in there?" enquired Ron, politely and in the most non-aggressive voice he could summon.

"No, Ron. Once the brain is gone it is gone. It's not coming back. I had once thought it possible to return but then I realised that it probably wasn't there in the first place. How could something that was never there, return. I then realised that it couldn't. All my hopes and faith was for nothing. The realisation hit me hard and it nearly broke me. I changed from the caring, modest, intelligent girl I used to be into a cold, hard, woman with a shrivelled heart that is as dry as the pages of the books that I so willingly cling to…" Hermione trailed off, realising that she had said too much.

Ron looked flummoxed. "We're not talking about the same thing, are we?" he hazarded.

Hermione sighed tiredly, " No, probably not. I assume that you were talking about the book?"

"Yep. What were you -"

"Never mind, " interrupted Hermione. "In answer to your question regarding the book - yes, I think in all probability the creature will be in there. Campbell's Compendium is quite comprehensive," continued Hermione in a business like way. "I got it out of the library, back in first year, to help me decide what subjects to take in third year. It's very interesting! Mr Campbell certainly has a zest for his subject! The last four pages of the book listed all the injuries that he sustained whilst researching the book. Apparently, a particularly viscous species of pixies really, really, really don't like getting their photo taken."

Ginny hurried through the door leading from the girls' dormitory, knocking a few first years senseless, and then threw herself onto the rug in front of them. "Right. I've got the book. What are we looking under; hobgoblins, goblins, pixies, faeries, brownies, sprites or miscellanous spirits? "

"Based on Ron's description, we can probably rule out faeries, goblins and hobgoblins," Hermione replied, leaning over to see the books contents page. "Try brownies first. That seems the most likely."

Ginny flicked through to the section on brownies. She held the book up to Ron's face, "Look familiar?" she asked.

"Yeah… That one looks kind of like it" he said. He took the book and began turning the pages and examining the pictures.

Harry was still entranced in the flames, drawing wistful sighs from the majority of the female Gryffindors and the minority of the males. Hermione, Ginny and Ron all looked round after hearing a particularly loud sigh. They gave the Creevey brothers extremely dirty looks. After the Creeveys had made good their escape, Hermione and Ginny muttered darkly together about whether or not they would have to post a guard on Harry whilst he was showering in the Gryffindor boys' bathroom, whilst Ron turned his attention back to the book. A few minutes later, they jumped as Ron shouted excitably, "That's him! That's the bugger! Right down to his clothes! Well, apart from the turban..."

Hermione grabbed the book off him and began to read the passage that accompanied the picture, "This is a fairly standard type of brownie found mainly in the Scottish Highlands. They live in colonies with a complex matriarchal hierarchy and social structure. They are governed by a select group of colony elders that are required to complete a series of tasks in order to become an elder (these tasks include such activities as caber tossing, sheep rustling, haggis hunting, and having given birth to, at least, twelve children. Colonies usually consist of an average of six different brownie families, however, this can range from as low as three families to up to nine families per colony -"

"Hermione," Ginny interrupted, "do we _really_ need to know this?"

Hermione snorted. "One has to understand one's enemy. This is important information! We need to know this!"

"Aww, come on Hermione! Give us a break. You know that we're not as smart as you!" moaned Ron, as this was getting a bit too much like a History of Magic lesson..

"Yes, this is a fact that we know and accept," agreed Ginny, who too, thought that this was like listening to Professor Binns.

Hermione tutted and continued reading from the book, "Interestingly, brownies are, for the majority of the time, solitary creatures. They only come together on special occasions, known to them as 'Holy Days'.

"Their natural habitat can range from woodland or forest, to moor and glen. Typically, their diet consists of insects and possibly even small mammals like mice and voles.

"They have, like other brownies, a curious sense of cultural identity, seldom are they seen wearing anything but brown clothes. Those that do are, by common agreement within the colony elders, ostracised from the colony and banished from their homeland.

"Their nature can only be described as 'quirky'. Whilst, they prefer their life of solitude from other creatures in the 'great outdoors', they can commonly be found in the houses of both magical and non-magical folk. Witches and wizards can perform a simple test to discern whether or not their house has a brownie, by leaving a saucer of milk on the kitchen floor before they go to bed. In the morning, the saucer will be empty, washed, and dried, with a polite but firm note from the brownie asking them not to do that again as leaving milk on the floor will attract all sorts of undesirable pests. Brownies are fastidiously pedantic when it comes to cleaning and tidying. They are even worse than vampires!"

"Oh, fancy!" chirped Ron in an effeminate voice, making Ginny giggle.

"Shut up Ron," replied Hermione sincerely, before again continuing.

"Witches and wizards have even found that if they leave their living room, even for a brief moment, all the cushions have been plumped, creases smoothed and doilies straightened.

"Muggles generally, of course, do not notice brownies. However, in the few Muggle houses that do have a brownie, the owners believe that there is some sort of 'household spirit' watching over the house. This is accepted within Muggle society, as these are rural areas where the old Muggle 'folklore' is still considered important. Brownies can be very protective of their adopted homes and people.

"Brownies tend to have weak magical powers. They can only perform what we wizards would call basic spells. These spells are normally used for cleaning and tidying but, when provoked, brownies can be very nasty creatures to deal with. My advice to you would be simple. Never aggrieve a brownie. Ever."

Hermione paused, a thoughtful frown crossing her features. Ron and Ginny's attention snapped back to where they were supposed to be – on brownies. "Um, is that all?" inquired Ginny innocently.

Hermione shook her head, as if to clear it. "Oh… No… It then goes on to state the danger level and such."

Ron's ears pricked up, "Danger level? What danger level?" He leant across to Hermione and scanned down the page she had been reading and read:

__

Danger level: 2/7

Author's experienced peril: 1/6

Ministry of Magic Classification: XX upgraded to XXXX when provoked.

"When provoked?" asked Ron. He blew out his cheeks and raised his eyebrows. "I don't like the sound of that."

"It doesn't sound good," Hermione agreed. "Did Orla provoke it at all? She doesn't really seem the type to do something like that."

Ron wrinkled his brow in concentration, "No... No... I don't think so. I didn't see her do anything, but it was waiting for her. It sniffed the air before she came round the corner - it smelled her."

"Eww!" squealed Ginny, "That's horrible!"

"YOU DON'T HAVE TO BLOODY WELL TELL ME!" exploded Harry. "THE WHOLE SITUATION IS HORRIBLE! IT'S NOT BLOODY FAIR!"

Harry looked wild-eyed around at his fellow students, who were all staring at him, wondering with mild interest, what he was shouting about now.

"DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT! IT'S NOT BLOODY FAIR - MY WHOLE LIFE IS NOTHING BUT TORMENT AND PAIN!" Harry screamed. He whirled around and dashed up to his dormitory.

There was a few moments silence. "Well," said Hermione briskly, "that was yet another interesting glimpse at Harry's inner-angst." She turned to Ron. "You did make absolutely sure that there were no sharp instruments your dormitory? And you removed the socks?"

Ron nodded and Ginny said, "Yes, and I enchanted the picture of Dean's family so that it watches over Harry. If Harry tries anything stupid one of them will trigger the alarm."

The alarm was mounted on the wall above the doorway to the boys' dormitory.

If Harry tried anything stupid, (for example, harming himself or, as he put it, "… ENDING MY UNBEARABLE EXISTANCE! MY PERPRTUAL SUFFERING, FERMENTING IN THE DEEPEST PITS OF HELL") a klaxon would sound and the light would flash and any available Gryffindor student would rush to his side and prize his wand out of his hands. Generally, the alarm went off four or five times a day.

Hermione sighed, "Well, I've enchanted his tie so he can't hang himself with it, and Luna cast a charm on his Firebolt so it'll save him if he falls or throws himself off, and Neville has trained all the dangerous plants in the grounds to recognise and avoid him."

"I wonder what Dumbledore has done to protect Harry from himself?" asked Ron. "Something cunning no doubt, because if Harry ever found out..." Ron shook his head slowly, "Well, put it this way, I wouldn't want to be around him when he did."

Ginny raised her eyebrows, "What do you think he'd do?"

Ron sighed, "Well, he'd explode, wouldn't he?" Ron sighed again and rubbed his face in his hands, "And then he'd bitch about it for _ages_."

Ginny nodded, "True."

"But back to the task at hand," said Hermione, "We need to do more investigation. We need to find this creatures motivation. Why is he doing these things? I'll hit the library and you two can ask around."

"Ask what?" said Ron, "Ask who?"

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Can I make up a poster?! A 'Have you seen this brownie?' kinda thing?" asked Ginny excitedly.

"Oh for the love of…!" exclaimed Hermione. She took a deep breath, looked to the ceiling and counted to ten. "Ron – ask people, ghosts, teachers, house-elves and portraits. Ginny you do the same."

"What about the poster?" asked Ginny.

Hermione sighed and said tiredly, "If you must…"

However, things didn't go quite to plan. An hour later, Hermione was still busy in the library, Ginny had made her poster and, as the klaxon had sounded, Ron had spent his time trying to talk Harry out of jumping from the roof. All in all, it wasn't an overly productive hour for Ron Weasley – except, of course, from using his negotiation skills with Harry. Trouble was that negotiation wasn't one of Ron's strong points. He tried different tactics; he tried to convince Harry that life wasn't all that bad, then that Harry still had plenty to live for, and that once he'd murdered Voldemort in cold blood everything would be just dandy. Then, getting annoyed at Harry's obvious attitude problem and his copious amount of self-pity, Ron had given up on negotiation and stunned him, levitated him back inside the dormitory and tied him, spread-eagled, to his bed. Problem solved.

As Ron left the dormitory, he put several locking spells and hexes on the door because Merlin-forbid it if the Creeveys found Harry like that. It really, really didn't bear thinking about.

Back in the common room, Ron surveyed Ginny's poster. It could only be described as a 'good effort'. She had used a _reproducio_ spell to copy the picture from the book onto a spare piece of parchment, she then added the legend 'Have you seen this brownie?' and 'Please contact Hermione Granger with any information'. The picture had been modified by Ginny to include the turban. She had posted it on the Gryffindor common room notice board, then had gone to point it out to her fellow students and had received a critical mauling. Dean Thomas, had taken it particularly badly and had actually wept, he had called it "an affront to the world of art." Ginny was, understandably, unimpressed. Ron, however, was quite glad, as it looked like Ginny was single again.

Ron and Ginny were sitting by the fireplace morosely, when the portrait of the Fat Lady admitted Hermione. Somehow, they were not surprised to find that Hermione was nearly spitting nails.

"Bloodly, bloody Pince! What an old Hag!" she seethed. "_Apparently_, I have reached the limit to the number of books I can borrow from the library! Can you imagine! I've never heard of such a thing!"

Ginny wasn't brave enough to point out that Hermione had almost fifty books on loan from the library in her dormitory. "So did you find anything new?" Ginny said instead.

"Nothing that jumps out at me. I found lots about brownie population dynamics and cultural heritage and customs. What about you two?" Hermione asked.

Ron and Ginny exchanged a quick glance. They knew that they would be in very serious trouble with Hermione when she found out how little they had learned.

"I finished my poster, it's over there," said Ginny, gesturing to the notice board. "I found out a some stuff too..." she trailed off.

Hermione looked at the poster. She narrowed her eyes. "Well, the concept of the poster is sound and the execution is passable. The picture of the brownie _avec turban_ is useful, but I'm not sure why the brownie has a goatee, sunglasses, what appears to be a joint in his mouth, and an inappropriately large phallus."

Ginny whipped round to look at her poster. Right enough, it had been vandalised, "Oh bollocks!" she said. She strode across to the notice board and tore the parchment down. "Alright! Who did this?" she demanded, looking around at the other Gryffindors.

"Well, does the fact that it has a disproportionally large phallus in it give you even the slightest clues?" asked Hermione dryly. "Or the fact that the embellishments appear to have been drawn by a sack full of blind badgers?"

Ginny looked back down at the poster and shouted, "Seamus Finnigan! What is it about you and huge dongs!"

Seamus who was busy trying not to laugh at Ginny, failed to duck as she aimed her infamous Bat Boogie hex at him. He fled the common room screaming and trailing the gruesome effects of the spell. Ginny looked back down at her poster and tried to repair the damage. The Gryffindors near her could hear her muttering something like, "Bloody Finnigan… obsessive… tripods… psychological complex… he's got a bloody mushroom… bloody Finnigan… Irish titwank…"

Hermione turned to Ron, "Well, Ron, what did you discover?"

Ron shifted uneasily, "Oh, this and that."

Sensing weakness, Hermione closed in for the kill, "And?" she enquired a dangerously sweet voice.

Ron shifted some more, trying to avoid Hermione's mega-watt glare. Ron sighed and rubbed his forehead. He said, "Harry had another episode." He looked up and met her slowly softening glare, "Hermione, all jokes aside… do you think he has a mental disorder?" he asked in a tired voice.

Hermione's face was sad and clouded for a moment as she studied Ron. _He looks so sad and tired_, she thought, _he looks old. Perhaps I should give him a break… _Her face suddenly cleared, _Perhaps not_, she thought. Aloud she said, "Of course not. There's nothing wrong with him. He just has a bad case of I.D." she said briskly.

Ron looked puzzled, "What's I.D.?" he asked.

Hermione gave him a small smile, "Impending Doom."

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please review! I promise that chapter three will be up shortly!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Additional Disclaimer: The "small water biscuit" quote is taken from Blackadder.

A big thanks to reviewers Jewel2957 and Cloudchick. You make my day! I also apologise for the lateness in posting this chapter. I had some 'real life' problems and my ADSL router went down. I was without the internet for a whole week! No fanfiction for a whole week! I went cold turkey. Not fun. Didn't enjoy. Don't recommend.

Chapter 3

The next day dawned bright and clear, as they often did after a dramatic night or personal crisis, and when Ron awoke, his dormitory was empty except from a very grumpy Harry, who was still tied spread-eagled to his bed. Ron yawned and ran a hand through his hair before swinging his legs out of bed and finding his slippers. He put them on, stood up, stretched, yawned again, and then made his way over to Harry's bed whilst absentmindedly scratching himself. He untied Harry's skinny arms and legs and, leaving Harry to untie his gag, went to the toilet. On his return, Harry was sitting on the end on his bed trying to massage some life back into his hands and feet, looking rumpled (physically and emotionally).

"Thanks for that mate, " Harry said gruffly. "I wasn't feeling myself last night."

"Don't mention it," replied Ron briskly, now feeling ever so slightly guilty at the pleasure he had felt when he stunned the melodramatic little git.

They dressed in silence. Once he was ready, Ron said in a falsely cheery voice, "You coming down to breakfast? The house-elves really pull out all the stops on Sundays!" Ron inwardly grimaced at his condescending tone.

Harry grunted. Ron took this as a 'yes'. "I'll be down in the common room with Hermione and Ginny. Come down when you're ready," Ron said as he sped out of the dormitory.

The common room was deserted. Ginny and Hermione had obviously gone down to breakfast early, either that or he had slept in and was, as a result, later than usual. Ron sat down by the fire and decided to try his hand at brooding whilst he waited for Harry. He discovered over the next twenty minutes that he was really quite good at it. From his position by the fire he found he could watch the female Gryffindors that passed through the common room in dribs and drabs on their way to the Great Hall, and what would be a truly excellent breakfast. Ron's stomach growled insistently. After receiving the twelfth admiring glance, he decided he could wait a little longer for Harry.

Half an hour after leaving Harry in the dormitory, Harry came down to the common room. Without speaking, Ron got up and walked over to the Fat Lady's portrait and climbed through the opening. Harry followed, looking sulky.

They entered the Great Hall and found seats beside Hermione, Ginny and Luna. Harry grunted a greeting, poured himself a coffee, and slumped himself against the table. Ron nodded to all and sundry and greeted them with a brisk, "Alright?"

Hermione, Ginny and Luna watched in mild horror as he began to feed himself.

"You know, I've never heard a human being make noises quite like that," commented Luna, utter disbelief jolting her out of her usual dreamy demeanour.

"You get used to it," said Hermione somewhat glumly.

"Luna, trust me, this is quite tame. You should come over to breakfast sometime during the holidays, when all seven of my brother are there. You can't hear yourself think," said Ginny.

There was a slurping noise as Harry finished his coffee, which was quickly followed by a loud 'thunk' as Harry's forehead hit the tabletop.

The four students around him watched his little display dispassionately. Ron heaved a sigh and poured a goblet of pumpkin juice. He tapped Harry on the shoulder. "Here. Get some of this down you," he said as he pushed the goblet into Harry's hand.

Harry peered into the goblet suspiciously. "Did you spit in this?" he demanded.

Ron stared at him incredulously. "Why would I do that?" he asked, bewildered.

Harry didn't answer but narrowed his eyes at him as he took a tentative sip of the juice. Harry proceeded to swill the juice around in his mouth, apparently testing the juice. He nodded and swallowed. "Just as well you didn't. I can tell when it's been tainted by spit," he said matter-of-factly.

"I remember that," muttered Ron, "because next time I'll piss in it."

The three girls spluttered and laughed at this. Harry, who hadn't heard Ron's last remark, glared at them. Harry got up and left the table, muttering darkly. When he reached the door to the entrance hall, he spun round and screamed to the massed assembly of students, "I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY YOUR BREAKFAST! AND I HOPE YOU ALL BLOODY CHOKE ON IT!"

A jet a red light issued from the tip of Dumbledore's wand and caught Harry in the chest. He fell to the floor stunned and Dobby ran out of the shadows and grabbed his hand. They vanished with a pop. Dumbledore smiled at the students and motioned them to continue with their breakfast.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Luna all looked at each other, and shook their heads.

"Do you think perhaps he should be medicated?" Ginny asked.

"Probably. Give him one foot up the arse at breakfast, lunch and dinner. That would help," sniffed Hermione.

"Well, I suppose it might help," said Ginny doubtfully. "It may cause slight discomfort but, on the bright side, it wouldn't cause drowsiness. But three times a day? I don't know… How about one foot up the arse as and when required?"

Hermione smiled. "Yes, that would be more appropriate." She looked around at Ron and said, "We're going to hit the library to try and find out about that creature and you're coming too."

"I take it I don't have a choice," commented Ron, already knowing the answer.

"Nope!" said Ginny, happily. She was happy because if she was going to spend all day in the library researching, when she could be out practising Quidditch, Ron was going to be there with her and suffer too. _Ah, the bliss of having big brothers_, she thought.

"What creature is this?" enquired Luna dreamily.

"Oh, just something Hagrid mentioned in passing," lied Hermione, quickly.

"Oh, I shall see you later then. I've got homework to do. Goodbye," said Luna, as she got up and drifted away.

Ron, Hermione and Ginny went to the library and found themselves a table near the Magical Creatures section. After giving Madam Pince a venomous look, Hermione went to the shelves and started selecting books. Ron and Ginny sat down feeling thoroughly depressed. They watched with deepening gloom as Hermione selected a number of heavy volumes and brought them to the table. Hermione dumped them in a pile and set off back towards the shelves for more equally heavy, boring, and dusty books. They looked at each other. They gave a resigned sigh, grabbed a book, opened them and started to search the index.

Hermione walked between the shelves and the table several more times, her arms laden with books on each return trip. Ron and Ginny shifted in their seats, uncomfortably aware of the towers of books on their table.

As Hermione went back to the shelves, Ron, seeing the despondency in Ginny's face, tried to lighten the situation with a bit of mindless chit-chat. "So, Ginny, how's life treating you? Enjoying being fifth year? How are you getting on with your homework? My homework back then was a total _nightmare_."

"Life's fine. Fifth year's all right. Homework is more gruelling than any Quidditch session that I've ever played. But, luckily, I have a secret weapon for dealing with my homework," replied Ginny.

Ron's eyebrows raised questioningly. "What?"

Ginny leaned over the table closer to Ron. "Well," she whispered conspiratorially, "Luna's doing it."

"What?" hissed Ron, unable to believe his ears.

"She's quite happy to do it," whispered Ginny. "She likes to practise my handwriting." She looked troubled for a moment. "I wish I knew why…." Then she shrugged. "And what with splitting my time between Dean and Quidditch, I'm quite happy to let her."

Ron goggled at her. "Does Hermione know?" he whispered, his eyes flicking fron Ginny's face to Hermione who was standing with her back to them.

"No! I'm not fool enough to tell her and neither will you if you know what's good for you!" Ginny threatened. "Anyway, I study for the tests and stuff. Luna only helps out when it gets a bit much! Also, for your information Mister Weasley, Luna also happens to write very good notes." She sniffed. "Don't look at me like that! You and Harry always used to look at Hermione notes!"

Ron opened his mouth to reply but Hermione had returned and he quickly shut it again. He briefly considered telling Hermione, but he decided against it, as he liked his testicles where they were, thank you very much.

"Let's get started then," ordered Hermione.

They spent the next two hours pouring over the books trying to find out more about the brownie. The search was proving to be utterly fruitless (there was not an apple in sight). They stopped for a break, thoroughly dispirited at their lack of success. Ron and Ginny were then subjected to a would-be rousing speech from Hermione regarding the importance of finding out more information. Unfortunately, most of this speech went straight over their heads as they were Weasley's, they were bored, and Hermione kept on using big words with four or more syllables that they didn't understand. They just nodded and said "You're right, Hermione" at strategic points of the speech (this technique was a sort of defensive mechanism most of the Weasley family had adopted to cope with their mother's lectures and Percy's inane orations about more or less everything).

They resumed their research, but after half an hour, Ron was getting fidgety and Ginny was gazing out of the window. After being kicked inadvertently by Ron under the table for the sixth time, Hermione snapped. She grabbed Ron by the ear and dragged him out of the library, deaf to his feeble whimpers of pain and pleas for mercy. She threw him against the opposite wall and he watched dumbfounded as Hermione stalked back inside and did the same to Ginny.

"Right! I've had enough! I'm utterly sick to the back teeth of both of you! I'll do it myself! You two can talk to the ghosts, the house-elves, teachers, the students and those that have been attacked," Hermione spat. "Go now! Don't come back until you've found something!"

"Hermione, I've been one of your best friends for six years! You've just assaulted me!" yelped Ron, holding his throbbing ear protectively.

"Yes! I know! Six years! It's no wonder then, that I'm utterly sick of the sight of you!" she fumed. She spun on her heel and strode back into the library.

There was a shocked silence between Ron and Ginny.

Ron threw his hands up into the air in frustration. "Women!" he shouted.

Ginny glared at him. "What do you mean by that?" she challenged.

Ron glared back at her and said sarcastically. "What do you mean, what do you mean by that?"

Ginny bared her teeth. "What do you think I meant by that, _Ronald_? I meant, what do you mean, what do you mean, what do you mean by that?"

"What?" said Ron, completely perplexed.

"Oh, never mind! Look, you go see those students that have been attacked and I'll go speak to the others!" Ginny snarled.

Ron watched as she disappeared around the corner.

"Women!" he repeated, very, very quietly.

Ron opened the Hospital Wing door very carefully and stuck his head inside. He couldn't see Madam Pomfrey anywhere. He breathed a sigh of relief. Madam Pomfrey would have complicated things. _The bloody woman always complicated things_, Ron thought bitterly, _she just can't leave well enough alone!_

Ron quickly scanned wing and made his way stealthily towards the infirmarie's only occupant. Orla was sitting up in bed engrossed in a book, with bits of parchment scattered over her bedclothes. She looked up as he approached.

"Hello, hero," she said shyly, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

Ron looked taken aback for a moment. "What? Oh, yeah, right. It was nothing." Feeling that a bit more was needed, Ron continued on suicidally, "No need to thank me but I will accept any offers of sexual favours for my selfless heroism." It was, at this exact moment, that Ron realised that Orla was about fourteen years old. _Oh shit_, he thought.

Orla blushed more and looked down. "I'll see what I can do, shall I?" she said. When she looked back at him, Ron saw that she had an odd sort of heat in her eyes.

Ron panicked. _Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Buggery, balls, bollocks, bastards… Oh bugger!_ he heard his brain cry. He knew he was sailing deep into uncharted waters. Very dangerous uncharted waters. She was two years younger than Ginny for crying out loud! In his opinion it was bad enough that Lavender insisted on flirting with him, but for a young girl… _Oh, good grief_! he thought. _Hermione's going to kill me_! He knew, with depressing certainty, that this girl's broken heart was going to be his fault. He also knew that it would be because he was a heartless, inconsiderate, male chauvinist pig who had been repressing other members of society through a combination of bigotry, ignorance, prejudice or plain bone idleness. He probably would also be accused of clinging to out-dated beliefs because he was too lazy or too selfish to consider alternative ways. He knew this because Hermione had recently been saying it regularly. At first, he had been startled and hurt by the accusation and tried to argue back. He had taken being called a bigot as particularly ridiculous and told Hermione that she had obviously had left her senses as she knew for a fact that he'd never even been married, not even once. At that point, she'd started throwing books and hurling hexes at him so he'd had to flee for his life. It was only later when Ginny and Luna had explained the difference between bigotry and bigamy, did he realise his mistake.

"Ron?" asked Orla, interrupting his thoughts.

Ron jumped and rejoined reality, aware that his mind had drifted off. He hurriedly recalled it and said apologetically, "Sorry, I got a bit side-tracked for a minute there. Look, I didn't mean to say that about the favours. I didn't realise that I was talking out loud." He grinned sheepishly. "I should have said 'How are you?'"

Orla's face lit up in a grin. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine, thanks for asking. Madam Pomfrey's just being her usual over-bearing, over-protective self. I was fine last night but she wanted to keep me under observation." Orla's voice changed and became husky and she looked at him through her eyelashes. "I could have been a lot worse if you hadn't been there to save me. I could have been seriously hurt or even killed, if it wasn't for you."

Ron surreptitiously wiped his now sweating palms on his robes and tried to calm the queer feelings in his churning stomach (_nausea_, he suspected). His brain screamed at him, _She's fourteen going on forty! She's a man-eater! Vixen! Minx! Harlot! Scarlet woman! Run man! Run for the hills_! Ron tried to silence the voice whilst out-loud he mumbled, "Don't mention it."

Orla looked at him expectantly, obviously waiting from him to say something. Seconds ticked by. Ron knew what he was here for, he just couldn't work out how to start the conversation. _Here goes nothing_, he thought, mentally steeling himself in case of verbal backlash.

"So," started Ron brightly, "have you recently done anything that would result in someone wanting to attack you?"

Orla's jaw dropped. "Of course not!" she cried, slightly offended. "I'm not a bad person! I'm not nasty to people! I do all my homework on time and help other people when I can!" She surveyed Ron for a moment. "I know that you're friends with Luna and for your information I stop people being mean to her when I catch them."

"What do you mean by that? What do people do to her?" asked Ron, surprised.

"Oh, stupid, immature things like hiding her clothes, books and homework. Or sometimes they charm her things to shrink when she puts them down, so she can't find anything. As I said – stupid, childish things."

Ron remembered that Harry had mentioned something about this (before Harry had thrown a total fruit loop) but Ron hadn't really been listening at the time (he'd been thoroughly whipping Hermione at Wizards chess). Ron felt his anger at what Orla had said began to heat the tips of his ears.

"Oh, they do, do they?" he said dangerously.

"The younger ones do, Ron," she said, adopting a superior, holier-than-thou tone. "The one's that don't know any better. The one's that don't have enough brains to spread across a small water biscuit." Orla gave him a small smile. "I'm surprised that some of them actually get sorted into Ravenclaw."

"They sound like they'd fit into Slytherin," remarked Ron.

"The majority of the students leave her to it. It's just that some of them aren't mature enough to understand that everyone's different and that everyone has the right to be who they are. To be themselves. I understand that and you do too."

Ron considered this before nodding. He felt strange. He felt as though a door in his mind had opened and he didn't know where it led too. He rather suspected that this was going to lead to some deep introspection on his part – something he didn't relish the thought of.

"What do you think about the Curse?" asked Orla, abruptly, jerking him out of his thoughts.

"Well… I dunno. Me and a bunch of others are trying to find out though," he answered. "What do you think about it?"

"I don't know either," she said pensively. "It's strange. We've all tried to work out a pattern to the attacks but we can't. We've looked at all the different factors and variables that we can think of, but we can't come up with anything concrete or conclusive. Not to mention we can't find a motive or any evidence of the perpetrator after the attacks. The Ravenclaw common room has been turned into an incident room like the one the Auror's have at the Ministry. We've got schematics of the castle, diagrams and photographs of where the attacks took place, and statements from the victims. What we really need are testimonies of the witnesses but, so far, there's only been one witness. You."

"Ah," said Ron, a sudden premonition clouded his inner-eye.

"Which brings me to my next question." Orla looked at him imploringly. "Would you be free tomorrow for an interview?"

Ron felt uncomfortable under the younger girl's gaze. "Yeah. Sure. No problem." He realised that he'd agree to anything as long as she stopped looking at him like that. "How about after breakfast tomorrow? You can come over to the Gryffindor table, if you like."

Orla looked relieved. "Oh, I hoped that you'd agree! But, it won't be me that'll be doing the interviews," she said brightly. "For the sake of consistency and to produce an unbiased report an independent intermediary will be conducting it."

"Oh, right," said Ron. "Who'll be doing it then?"

"Lisa Turpin will be asking the questions and Stewart Ackerley will be acting as note-taker."

Ron was impressed. "You Ravenclaws are really doing this thing properly, aren't you?"

Orla blushed. "Well, naturally. If something's worth doing, it's worth doing properly."

Ron chuckled. "Right." In his mind's eye, he saw the Ravenclaw common room filled with Hermiones' sorting through the gathered information. He saw them all assessing, reviewing, collating and discarding bits of parchment. He chuckled again. _How absolutely terrifying_, he mused to himself.

"Hang on," said Ron, frowning. "You said that the interviewers were going to be independent intermediaries. But they're Ravenclaws! How can they be independent?"

Orla looked uncomfortable and said a little hesitantly, "Well… We… Um… Well, what I mean to say is that, well…." She stopped and took a deep breath before continuing. "To be utterly frank, we felt that we couldn't ask the other houses or the staff for help. It's just, well, you know, House pride and all that jazz." She saw the look on his face and said defensively, "Well, we're hardly going to use the Slytherins or Hufflepuffs, are we? The Slytherins wouldn't take it seriously and probably wouldn't help because muggle-borns are involved – they're all afraid of that Malfoy cretin – and besides they'd just blame it on Hagrid or the Gryffindors. And… The Hufflepuffs would mean well, but, you know," she grimaced, "they're Hufflepuffs. Most of them don't know their arse from their elbow."

__

Ah, thought Ron sarcastically, _it's good to see prejudice and bigotry alive and well at Hogwarts in this day and age_. Aloud, he asked, "What about the Gryffindors?"

Orla looked extremely uncomfortable. Quietly she said, "Well… The thing is… Some of the Ravenclaws think that Gryffindor is behind the Curse"

"What?!" yelled Ron, outraged.

"I don't think that! But it's just that a lot of Ravenclaws think that Gryffindors are jealous of us because of our intelligence," she explained hurriedly. She shifted on the bed. "Also, there's the H.G. factor."

"H.G.? What's the H.G. factor?" Ron demanded.

"Hermione Granger. Common consensus is that she should be in Ravenclaw. Hermione's won an awful lot of points for Gryffindor, points, that some people – not me, I hasten to add – believe belong to Ravenclaw. Hermione's the smartest student in the school and she's s Gryffindor! That hasn't happened in over twenty years!" exclaimed Orla. "It's stupid, but that's what some people think."

"You're right, " Ron confirmed, "it is stupid. Ravenclaws are holding a grudge against Gryffindor house because they didn't get Hermione! I'm surprised that those that think that were sorted into Ravenclaw." Ron looked at Orla's worried expression and sighed. "Look, I'm not taking this out on you… I've had a hard year with a lot of stuff happening and…." He trailed off. "Thanks for your help Orla. I'm sorry if I've offended you or anything, it's just that sometimes, well, I get stressed out and, as my sister reminds me on a daily basis, I speak before I think."

Orla smiled at him. "It's alright, Ron."

There was an awkward silence.

Ron got up. "Well, I'd better be going."

Orla smiled at him and said, "You know Ron, you're the most charmingly gormless idiot I've ever had the good fortune to meet."

Ron struggled to work out if this was an insult or a compliment. He settled on a compliment and replied in what he hoped was a rakishly debonair way, "You don't get out much, do you?"

He turned and strolled out of the infirmary.

Coming soon in chapter 4 - Harry has a mood swing and recruits Dobby for a cunning plan. Ginny, Hermione and Ron collate their information and decide to go see Hagrid (an act of sheer desperation). And there's another attack, suspense, mystery, PMT, and Ron gets interviewed.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter 4

Ron wandered aimlessly through the castle, pondering what he had just heard, when he bumped into Ginny. She promptly told him (rather impolitely he thought) to "stop pissing about and get some work done or Hermione will have you." Ron wasn't exactly sure about what Ginny meant by Hermione 'having him' but he decided that it sounded rather unpleasant and painful and therefore swiftly came to the conclusion that helping Ginny to question the portraits on the upper floors and any passing ghosts was probably the best course of action relating to his immediate health and wellbeing. Conveniently, he also had his Prefect duties to perform, which would afford him the prefect excuse for walking the corridors and, more importantly, hanging about the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room.

He slowly made his way along the corridors asking the portraits if they seen or heard anything suspicious lately. The only suspicious things that they had seen have very little bearing on this particular story but Ron was amazed by the thriving Underworld (supplying all sorts of magical items, ingredients, gossip, blackmail and possible Vampirism) that had seemingly established itself within Hogwarts and he wondered just exactly how much Fred and George had had to do with it. Ron had expected this to take a good deal longer than it did, but due to the nomadic nature of the inhabitants of the portraits he only needed to talk to the portraits at the beginning of each corridor and then as he passed down it, he got several reports on who-was-doing-what and frighteningly who-was-doing-what-to-whom and terrifyingly who-was-doing-what-to-whom-with-which-inanimate-object.

After what seemed an eternity hearing about moral filth and fornication, Ron reached the corridor where the entrance to Ravenclaw common room was, at some point, situated. He leant against the wall feeling both extremely dirty and far older than he was three hours ago. Unluckily for Ron, it never occurred to him that the portraits were, in fact, having him on and with vividly descriptive acts of depravity involving the staff and the students (and more often than not both) echoing savagely through his brain, he failed to hear the laughter coming from the other portraits.

He tried to get a grip on himself (figuratively speaking) and pull the remains of his wits together but unfortunately it was proving to be useless. He needed to regroup, especially if regrouping involved a butterbeer and a truly gigantic chocolate éclair. He swiftly stole down to the kitchens and after tickling the proper pear, he asked the assembled house-elves for some éclairs and whilst they were busy, he raided Winky's 'secret' stash of butterbeer. He didn't feel too bad about it as he had seen Dumbledore do the very same thing one evening last month. Additionally, he reasoned, if you thought about it, he was actually doing Winky a favour by taking the butterbeer (i.e. stealing the only thing that made her life bearable).

Five éclairs, two butterbeers and a long soak in the Prefects' bathroom on the fifth floor (password now 'Lemon Zest') later, and Ron was almost feeling up to resuming his search for Terry and Eddie. Firstly, however, Ron felt he ought to check on Harry. This was something he wasn't looking forward too so he decided to dawdle about a bit on his way there.

Ron spent his time in transit to the Gryffindor common room wondering about the sudden lack of morality and ethical fibre within Hogwarts whilst wandering about the corridors, half-heartedly punishing Slytherins and talking to ghosts along the way. He was stubbornly ignoring the portraits, who seemed to think there was something funny, as no matter where Ron when they were all chortling behind their hands and pointing at him.

Upon reaching Gryffindor tower Ron was unsurprised to see Harry in his now habitual, brooding position by the fire. The reason he was unsurprised was that after being stunned, Harry was usually quite subdued.

Ron looked round and saw Lee Jordan beckoning him over. Ron obliged.

"Oh! This is exciting! He's been at it for eight hours straight! With no toilet breaks! It looks as if he's going to break his previous record! What do you say Ron? A galleon on him breaking his record? Or would you prefer to put a couple of sickles on how long he lasts?"

"Lee," enquired Ron gravely, "have you no shame?"

"Not with these odds!" quipped Lee. "Come on!" he urged. He elbowed in the ribs, "I won't tell Hermione."

Ron looked at him. "You _do_ know what she'll do to you if she finds out about this, don't you? You _do_ remember what she said the last time she caught you at this, don't you?"

Lee smiled. "With astounding clarity, my friend, but I've weighed the risk against the opportunity and I think it's worth it. We could be in the money with this one." Lee looked at him shiftily "Notice, Ron, that I said 'we'."

Ron looked at him sharply and raised his arms as if to ward off an attacker bringing imminent peril. "Ohhh, no! No, no, no, no. No way. No bloody way. I don't want any part of this! Gold isn't any good to a dead man, Lee. I'm quite happy being poor and alive." Ron backed away toward the portrait hole.

Lee looked quite upset. "Ron, mate, you're missing a fantastic business opportunity!" Lee said desperately.

"Yes, but I'm also missing the opportunity of getting my ears nailed to my knees!" retorted Ron, as the portrait swung closed behind him.

"Bloody idiot," he muttered as he set off again in search of Terry and Eddie.

This time, however, luck (if you could call it that) was with him and as he entered the corridor that contained the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower, he heard voices. Mandy Brocklehurst and Morag McDougal appeared from around a corner, giggling. Ron eyed them warily, he knew from experience that giggling was not a good sign and when he was sure that they weren't giggling 'aggressively' he called out, "Hey! Mandy! Hi. Is, um, is Eddie or Terry about?"

Mandy eyed him over suspiciously. "What do you want them for?" she asked, bossily.

Ron shrugged noncommittally and said, "Just a quick chat."

She raised one heavily pencilled eyebrow. "About?"

Ron shrugged again and replied in an unnaturally deep voice, "Man-talk."

Mandy and Morag exchanged a withering glance. "Dear lord help us…" muttered Mandy, not quite under her breath.

Morag giggled again, grabbed her friend by the shoulder and began to propel her towards a small alcove. "We'll just see if they're in," she assured him as they disappeared from view.

He found himself unconsciously straining to hear the password to the tower but he couldn't quite make out what it was. He used this short respite to try to

marshal his thoughts and work out what on earth was going on in Hogwarts.

Suddenly, Eddie's head appeared from the alcove. "Yeah, Weasley?" he said rather shortly.

Ron felt relief wash over him. Now he could tell Hermione that he had spoken to Eddie whatever he did or didn't find out. Ron nodded to him and conspiratorially motioned for Eddie to come closer. Eddie obliged but looked very uneasy and tense.

Ron glanced up and down the corridor to check that they were alone. "Eddie, can I ask you a couple of questions?"

Eddie's face twitched. "What about?" he asked through clenched teeth.

Ron was a little surprised and a lot mystified by Eddie's reaction but plunged bravely on with, "You were a victim of the Curse–"

"OH, SHUT UP!" Eddie bellowed, his face turning an alarming shade of scarlet.

Ron jerked back and suddenly found the tip of Eddie's wand trembling an inch beneath his nose. There was nothing he could do without getting hexed first so Ron settled on gawking stupidly at Eddie who's whole body was quivering with barely suppressed rage.

Eddie leaned in towards Ron and whispered harshly, "I'm on to you Weasley! I know that you know! You're very good at playing the fool but Merlin help me if you…." Eddie stopped, seemingly unable to go on, his chest heaving. Ron could tell that he was trying to master himself. "Weasley, if you DARE tell anyone–"

It was then that Ron's rescue was heralded by what he thought at the time, were the two sweetest words in the English language.

"OI! TITWANK!"

Ron and Eddie whipped round to see none other than Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and Dial-A-Hero standing, wand out and pointing fixedly at Eddie's groin. Harry had a grin plastered over his face. "Eddie, be a good boy and bugger off will you?" asked Harry pleasantly.

Eddie looked from Harry to Ron, the colour draining from his face as he considered what spell or hex Harry might cast. He lowered his wand slowly and backed away from Ron. He gave them a final contemptuous look before he slunk into the alcove, whispered the password and disappeared into Ravenclaw Tower.

Ron realised that he had been holding his breath and let it out in a 'whoosh'. "What the hell was that all about?" he asked Harry, wonderingly.

Harry shrugged. "Who cares?" he said, offhandedly. "Come on! Let's go down to the kitchens! Dobby and I have got a surprise for you! Come on! Move! Let's go!" Harry started to push and shove Ron forward, chivvying him on.

"Feeling better, are we?" asked Ron as he was ushered along the corridor.

"Don't know what you're talking about!" Harry said brightly, jostling Ron around a corner.

As Ron stumbled down steps and collided with objects, propelled ever faster by the broadly-grinning Harry, he couldn't help but feel ever-so-slightly terrified of Harry's sudden mood swing. Ron tripped over a first year, landed flat on his face and felt Harry's hand on the back of his robes lifting him roughly and setting him back on his feet. Ron took this brief pause to venture the question that had been nagging at him ever since Harry had mentioned it. "What kind of surprise is it?" he asked with extreme trepidation.

Harry grinned. It was a grin with absolutely no trace of humour in it. "You'll see," he answered, enigmatically.

Ron gulped.

The surprise, as it turned out, was rather surprising. Ron certainly had not expected it. It was standing it the middle of one of the house tables on a plinth which bore the legend '_Who's the daddy?_' It was an ice sculpture of Harry wearing his Quidditch robes, a smug look and a suitably heroic pose.

Ron, who had mentally prepared himself for the worse, couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. Harry, on the other hand, was looking rather pleased. He climbed up onto the table and slung an arm around it. "Good likeness, eh?"

Ron found that he was experiencing an interesting mix of being dumb-struck and being utterly speechless.

Harry misinterpreted the look on Ron's face. "I knew you'd like it! I think it captures me perfectly. My grace, my dignity, my spirit, my natural presence, charisma and, of course, my good looks…." Harry smiled indulgently. "It's also edible."

Ron jerked himself out of his shocked stupor. He regarded both Harry and the sculpture and asked suspiciously, "What do you mean by edible?"

Harry grinned wolfishly. "I mean that you can lick it. It's like an ice-lolly excepct, and here's the clever part, it's an Ice-Harry!" Harry beamed.

"This is so wrong," commented Ron, bleakly. He sat down on a bench and buried his face in his hands.

Dobby jumped out of the shadows and pattered up to Ron. "No, sir!" piped Dobby, his big green eyes goggling at Ron earnestly. "It isn't, sir! Dobby has been working on this all day, sir! Dobby has made this at Harry Potter's request, sir!" The little house-elf looked up at Harry with a look of fervent adoration.

"Harry!" gasped Ron. "You… You… You asked Dobby to make this?"

"Yep!" Harry grinned. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Ron looked around the kitchen in horror but his visual quest for sanity was not forthcoming with candidates. "Good grief! You know who you sound like?" Ron asked, and then not bothering to wait, supplied the answer, "Lockhart."

"Bah!" dismissed Harry, with a wave of his hand. "Lockhart's got nothing on me. I'm younger, smarter, prettier and more charming than that git!" Harry said in an offhand tone. "Anyway," Harry tapped for temple with his finger, "I'm still in possession and full control of more of my intellectual faculties than him!"

_Actually_, thought Ron, _there's not much in it between them_. Aloud he said faintly, "This is madness…."

"NO!" shouted Harry. "You're wrong there, mate," he continued seriously. "This," he gestured to the sculpture, "is not madness - it is art." He raised a finger imperiously. "Madness would be to strip naked, glaze myself in honey, put a pound of sage and herb stuffing up my arse, shove an apple into my mouth and serve myself up to Voldemort on a large platter with a baby spinach, watercress and rocket side salad."

Ron looked at him. "You've given that quite a lot of thought, haven't you?"

Harry shrugged. "Well," he said nonchalantly, "I brood."

Ron drew in a deep breath and stood up. "Well, I've had enough of this madness. I'm leaving. Goodbye."

Harry had turned back to the ice-sculpture. "Okay dokey, karaoke," he said faintly, lost in thought about the sculpture.

"Right then."

Ron left the kitchen with a distrustful backward glance at Harry, Dobby and the sculpture.

When the portrait had closed Harry turned to Dobby. "So, my good elf, have you prepared the potion?"

"Yes! Oh, yes, Harry Potter, sir!" The elf nodded his head vigorously. "Dobby, will do as instructed by Harry Potter, sir. Dobby will paint the Ice-Harry with the potion just shortly, sir!"

Harry grinned evilly and steepled his fingers together at his chest. "Excellent," he said.

Ron returned to the entrance hall, unsure of what to do next. Whilst he stood idly pondering his next move Hermione came bustling up to him.

"Ron! Come!" she commanded, grabbing his elbow and hustling him up the marble stairs.

"Do I have a choice?" he asked weakly, trying feebly to free his elbow from her grasp. "Where are we going anyway?"

"To meet Ginny. We've got a few leads. Did you have any joy?"

"Yeah… Well, maybe… Sort of…" he replied hesitantly.

"You're as unshakeably definite as usual, Ron. I've come to expect that off you," sniped Hermione, pulling him around a corner and down a dusty corridor.

She came to an abrupt halt and flung open a classroom door and pushed him inside. He looked around warily whilst Hermione stepped smartly into the room behind him and closed the door quickly. Ginny was sitting on a desk near the front and Luna was standing by a window gazing out upon the grounds.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Our reconnaissance mission has brought up a few interesting developments," hinted Ginny darkly.

"Yeah?" asked Ron, pleasantly surprised.

"Yes," agreed Hermione, fixing Ron with what he supposed to be a meaningful stare.

There was silence. Ron looked at the girls in turn but they didn't say anything. "Sooo," he said, "fancy sharing the news?"

"Yes, but firstly, have you seen Harry?" asked Hermione.

Ron frowned (he secretly damned his brow for revealing his feelings) and threw up his hands in a hopeless gesture. He sighed and sat down on the edge of a desk and, in a slightly depressed tone, said, "Yes, I have. He's down in the kitchens making ice-sculptures with Dobby."

Again, there was silence in the room. Hermione raised her eyebrows and looked at him. "Well, that's a new one," she muttered.

"Yup," confirmed Ron wearily.

Ginny pushed herself off the desk she was sitting upon. "Well, I suppose it's just a phase," she said dismissively. She took a deep breath and said, "The important thing is, as Hermione has already said, that we have had a breakthrough."

Ron looked at Ginny. "Yes, I know she said that. I was, in fact, here when she said it." He replied sarcastically.

Ginny opened her mouth to respond when Hermione raised her hand and cut in with, "Ginny, Ron is currently awaiting enlightenment on this information as he is wallowing in the smoky darkness of ignorance. He is also running a terrible danger of a knee in the testicles but seems strangely unaware of his situation." She smiled meaningfully at him.

The tension in the room was palpable. Ron's eyes darted from Ginny to Hermione, whilst his brain calculated how long it would take them to reach him and how long it would take him to reach, open and go through the door. _I might make it_, he thought desperately, _unless they use their wands_.

There was a small sigh from by the window. Luna had turned around and was watching them with an oddly wistful look in her eyes. "What have you found out, Hermione?" she asked in a calm voice.

This seemed to break the tension. The bloodlust drained from Hermione and Ginny eyes and they looked away from Ron. "Oh, something very interesting, Luna," said Hermione.

Ginny smirked and added leeringly, "Yes, Luna. Verrrrry interesting."

Luna looked at them interestedly. "What is it?"

Ron did not like the glint in Ginny's eyes.

"Well," said Hermione, "we have found out some rather interesting information regarding Terry and Eddie."

"And?" prompted Ron, hoping that his earlier encounter with Eddie might actually have some relevance to this conversation.

Hermione and Ginny exchanged a significant look. Hermione rubbed her hands together briskly and started to walk up and down between the rows of desks. "Well," she said, "whilst I was researching in the library, I, erm, over-heard and witnessed something I shouldn't have. After I had sent you two off I realised that perhaps the Defence Against the Dark Arts section may be of some help as this is undoubtedly a malicious creature that we are dealing with. There I was, minding my own business, when I heard muffled agitated voices. As a prefect, I naturally felt obliged to investigate. What I found was really rather significant." She stopped walking and declared triumphantly, "Eddie and Terry were not victims of the Curse!"

"No?" said Ron and Luna together.

"No," confirmed Ginny, waggling her eyebrows (something which greatly disturbed Ron).

"No," repeated Hermione, smugly.

Ron frowned. "Then how come Eddie and Terry ended up locked in the boys toilet with a cucumber stuck up Terry's arse?"

Luna gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth. Hermione and Ginny turned to Ron and watched him, waiting for the knut to drop. They had to wait a few seconds as the knut obviously had quite some way to fall.

Ron's eyes widened. "No! No way! No bloody way!"

Ginny grinned wickedly and nodded vigorously. "Yes! Yes way! Yes bloody way!" she cried excitedly.

Ron stared at Hermione. "How… How do you know this?" he asked her.

Hermione smiled grimly. "The voices I overheard in the library were Eddie's and Terry's. They were arguing about whether or not their housemates would find out that they weren't victims of the curse. When Filch discovered their romantic rendezvous in the toilets they couldn't bloody well tell him the truth, so they blamed it on the Curse! They then had to answer all these questions from the teachers and students on what had happened. They had to concoct a cover story! Everything they told the Ravenclaw investigation was a lie! Therefore, the Ravenclaw investigation is operating on false evidence! No wonder they're getting nowhere! After I had discovered this, Luna surprised me and Terry and Eddie discovered us."

"I'm sorry, Hermione," apologised Luna sincerely. "I didn't mean to interrupt you peeping in on a couples privacy," she added dreamily.

"I wasn't peeping!" cried Hermione indignantly. " I was on reconnaissance. The fact that they started groping each other was purely circumstantial and I was about to move away to give them privacy."

"No, you weren't," Luna replied mildly. "You were standing there gawking at them."

Hermione spluttered, bristled and puffed.

"It's alright, Hermione," said Ginny gently. "We're all a little curious about gay sex. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"_Ginny_!" yelped Ron, who was shocked and disgusted.

"Well, it's true!" retorted Ginny. "Lot's of men have fantasies about women being together so why can't women have the same fantasies about men?"

Ron went bright red and spluttered, "Well, I'll tell you… It's because… It's not… It's quite… It's just… It's that…." He trailed off as all the girls were looking at him and he found he couldn't arrange an adequate or even coherent sentence.

"Quite right, Ginny," agreed Luna. "It's sexist."

"Exactly!" agreed Hermione, grateful that her friends did not frown upon her secret. She was very pleased that Ginny and Luna felt that way as, after all, it was her natural curiosity and enquiring mind that lead her to wonder about same sex relationships - nothing else. She hoped.

Ron shook his head vigorously, perhaps trying to inflict enough brain damage to erase the last minute of disturbing conversation from his head. Finally, he sighed, "Well, at least that explains why Eddie over-reacted to my earlier attempted questioning."

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.

Ron shook his head ruefully. "Eddie went absolutely nuts at me. He said that 'he knew that I knew'. Only back then I didn't. I take it he and Terry saw you spying on him -"

"I wasn't spying!" interjected Hermione, angrily.

Ron nodded in a placatory gesture. "Alright, alright. Observing them for reasons of research relating purely to our investigation." He watched Hermione nod stiffly. "He probably thought that you told me about him and Terry."

"Yes, he probably did," she conceded. "After Luna and I had been discovered, we confronted Eddie whilst Terry ran off in tears."

Luna nodded in agreement and added, "We then told him that we wouldn't tell anyone about their lies if they could get us copies of everything the Ravenclaws have gathered for evidence so far."

"Can't you get that stuff, Luna?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"Oh, no" she replied airily. "I've offered to help but they don't let me go near the evidence. They said that they're trying to take the nonsense out - not put it back in." She frowned and said reflectively, "I wonder what they meant by that? I had only pointed out that they shouldn't leave things hanging up in case the Spurkles try to tamper with them. Spurkles are renowned for tampering with evidence, just ask the Aurors-"

"Yes," cut in Ginny. "Thanks for that Luna, but their loss is our gain. Isn't that right Ron, Hermione?"

Ron and Hermione shuffled their feet. "Oh, yes, yes," they both replied rather weakly.

"So what do you think could be behind it, Luna? Do you know what the Ravenclaws suspect?" asked Ron.

The dreamy double-agent looked at Ron with her silvery eyes. "I really don't know. I can't think of anyone or anything that'd do that sort of thing to people. I mean, it's not very nice, is it?" She frowned as if she were troubled. "I suppose that it could be -"

At that moment the classroom door burst open and Harry bounced in with a weary looking Neville behind him. Neville looked at them all and smiled in a slightly embarrassed way. "He jumped me in the entrance hall and started to sing about a wizard and a yellow brick road," said Neville sheepishly. He looked thoughtful for a moment. "When I come to think about it," he continued, "it was one of the most surreal moments of my life."

Harry beamed at them all. "How now, brown cow?" he greeted them. Then in the silence that followed, he began to sing the theme tune to 'Chitty Chitty Bang Bang'.

Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and lead him away from the commotion. "Look," she said seriously, "Luna doesn't know about the brownie. She doesn't know what you saw and I want it to stay that way. All she knows is that we're looking into the Curse to try to find the culprit and that Eddie and Terry's attack was faked. I don't want her to know in case she says anything to the other Ravenclaws. I want to be the one who figures this thing out!"

Ron raised his eyebrows at her questioningly.

"I meant we!" Hermione amended quickly. "I meant we. I meant that I want US to figure this thing out."

"So, you don't trust her then?" said Ron, politely.

"Of course I trust her!" snapped Hermione. "I'm just afraid that she might let something slip out front of them."

"They don't listen to anything she says anyway," Ron said glumly, and he started to recount his conversation with Orla, deliberately omitting out the flirtation.

"Hurmph! The H.G. factor indeed!" she snorted superciliously. "I've never heard of such complete and utter rubbish!"

Ron turned to watch Harry, who was now singing a song about 'what makes the world go round' much to Neville's disbelief, Luna's delight and Ginny's incredulity. However, Neville and Ginny looked as though they were enjoying it and Ron had to admit that Harry did have quite a pleasant voice.

"Have we got any more information?" Ron asked Hermione, whilst they all give Harry a round of applause for his efforts.

"Well, Ginny spoke to the house-elves, annoyed the teachers in the staff room, questioned the majority of the portraits on the first, second and third floors and has come up with precisely bugger all. She says that the ghosts don't know anything and that Peeves is still hiding behind the hem of Dumbledores robes. Everybody already knows that the Hufflepuffs don't have a bloody clue what's going on at the best of times and Ginny said that she'd rather stick a fork in her eye than talk to the Slytherins. Which is fair comment, really."

Ron nodded his agreement. "But nothing new about the creature?"

"No," Hermione replied with a sigh. "But we have made considerable progress."

"We have?" asked Ron somewhat bleakly.

"Yes!" snapped Hermione. "However, I think it's time we visited Hagrid. He may know more. This is obviously a dangerous brownie and we know how Hagrid feels about dangerous creatures.

"Yes, unfortunately we do," confirmed Ron gloomily.

They spent the next few moments in a reflective mood, watching Harry inviting them all to 'become part of the family' through song.

"Harry certainly knows his muggle musicals," Hermione remarked dryly. She thought hard for a moment or two before adding, "That's quite unusual for a boy."

Ron didn't exactly know what she meant or implied by this, and quite frankly, after the day he'd had, didn't much care.

"So, what shall I say at my big interview tomorrow?" he asked to change to subject and derail Hermione's train of thought.

"I shall brief you after dinner which, if we don't leave now, we will be late for," said Hermione bossily.

Hermione strode over to the rest of the group. "RIGHT!" she hollered. "Harry, shut up and everyone listen!" She paused and waited until she had everyone's attention. "Thank you," she added graciously before becoming business like once more. "It's dinner time, so move it or lose it!" She pointed her wand at Harry threateningly. "And I don't mean that figuratively," she growled menacingly.

The others exchanged glances and scurried out of the room.

Ron arrived at the Great Hall harbouring an ever-increasing feeling of trepidation. Luna broke off from the group and went to sit with the rest of her house whilst Ron and the others took seats at the end of the Gryffindor table. Ron was dreading the appearance of Harry's ice-sculpture. Harry, on the other hand, was positively chipper as he helped himself to every dish within reach.

Ron spent to whole of dinner pushing his food around his plate and looking fearfully at Harry, who was recounting his entire repertoire of 'Knock Knock' jokes.

Ron was relived, however, when the desserts materialised on the house tables and there was no sign of the ice-sculpture. The relief was so great that both he and his bladder felt weak. Needless to say, Harry was not impressed by the complete lack of ice-sculptures. He made an odd hissing noise and leapt up onto the table, landing deftly in a dish of treacle pudding. He pointed his finger at Dumbledore and got halfway through screaming, "IT'S NOT BLOODY FAIR!" before he was stunned, grabbed by a house-elf and disappeared with a 'pop'.

Ron shrugged at the students staring at him and helped himself to a gigantic slice of chocolate cake. He ate it with unashamed gusto.

Hermione swapped seats with Neville. "Right. Tomorrow's interview. I want you to deny all knowledge of the creature. You saw nothing suspicious and you have seen nothing suspicious. You heard nothing suspicious and you haven't heard anything suspicious since."

"Is that over and above the ectoplasm?" asked Ron.

"Of course," replied Hermione.

"Right."

There was a pause in which Ron watched Hermione.

"Is that all I have to do?" he asked.

"Yes."

Ron brightened. This appeared as though it would be easier than he had thought. "Ok. Great. Deny everything except ectoplasm. Excellent."

"I will accompany you," Hermione announced.

"Why?"

Hermione looked at him witheringly. "To help get you out of the mess you'll make of it."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Hermione," said Ron sarcastically.

Hermione smiled darkly. "Don't mention it."

Tomorrow came, with no special effects, the following day. Ron felt refreshed after a good nights sleep and he looked almost fondly over at Harry who was still sleeping off the effects of the stunning spell. He got dressed and slouched down to the Great Hall, sitting down beside Hermione who was, as usual, working industrially. He gave her a half-yawn half groan greeting and grabbed some toast. He was polishing off his sixth slice when Lisa and Stewart came over to begin their interview. Ron could help but notice their nervous glances at Hermione.

All in all, the interview went quite well. Ron, as instructed, maintained both his general and specific ignorance of the recent events. He was quite surprised by how readily the Ravenclaws swallowed his story, by the fact that they didn't comment or look surprised by his ignorance. Yes, he had heard of the so-called 'Curse'. No, discounting the ectoplasm he had seen nothing out of the ordinary. No, he hadn't been taking any mind-altering substances recently. And, no, he did not know where to get any or have any extra, thank you very much.

When the Ravenclaws left, Ron turned to Hermione, "So, how did I do?" he asked.

"You performed adequately," Hermione said briskly, "I was surprised, actually."

"What do you mean by that?" Ron demanded indignantly, as he watched Hermione gather up her books, quill and bag.

She said nothing but gave Ron a small, tight smile before she left for her lessons.

Ron's indignance swiftly turned into complete and utter confusion (which had been his natural state of mind recently). He watched Hermione walk out of the Great Hall and then looked around him, as if the solutions to his problems were lurking in the shadows, mocking him. He sighed, grabbed another piece of toast and began to munch on it thoughtfully.

Coming soon in Chapter 5 - the gang visit Hagrid and Malfoy gets what's coming to him. Only it's more exciting and funnier than it sounds.


End file.
